


Promises Kept

by questionmark007



Category: Stitchers (TV)
Genre: F/M, minor Fisher (he only says like one thing)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 23:12:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4854251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/questionmark007/pseuds/questionmark007
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Tumblr, blueberrymice asked: Can you do a camsten fic where Kristen gets kidnapped?</p>
<p>So here we go!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promises Kept

Kirsten wasn’t usually one to admit when she was wrong (normally because she wasn’t ever wrong) but in this case, she would make an exception.

In fact, she’d go as so far as to actually tell Cameron that she was wrong and he was right. If she ever got out of here. Hell, if she ever got out of here, that might not be the only thing she told him…

Here being the super-secret lair of the bad guy they’ve been trying to track for the last week.

Bad guy was probably too relaxed of a term for him considering he’d killed eight people, but that was mostly just semantics that Kristen didn’t have time for right now because she was trying to stop herself from becoming victim number nine. She strained against the ropes that tied her arms to the chair.

“You can stop struggling, girly. No way in hell you’re getting free. And even if ya did, there’s nowhere for you to run,” her kidnapper, Flint, gave her a grin that made her stomach churn. The few teeth he still had were yellow and showed clear signs of gum disease.

On the car ride to this place, Kirsten had had her hands duct taped together and a bag over her head so she wasn’t able to get a good idea of where they were, but if she were to guess, she’d say he had her in a large, clearly abandoned warehouse that was probably on the outskirts of L.A.

“How long have I been here?” she asked, not stopping in her attempts to loosen the ropes. Kirsten knew that he had taken her phone, so she couldn’t be tracked that way but thanks to Cautious Cameron, the team had a hidden tracker in the heel of her boot that should be broadcasting her location to the team. Meaning, if she’d been here for longer than ninety minutes, she should expect them to be busting down the doors at any moment.

“About four hours. Not sure why it matters though. ’S not like either of us is gonna be here much longer” Flint pulled a knife out of his back pocket and started using it to clean underneath his fingernails. Four hours was definitely more than enough time for the team to locate her…unless something went wrong… Refusing to let herself go to the worst case scenario, she decided that if she kept him talking, maybe she could buy herself some more time.

“Why aren’t we going to be here for much longer?” Kirsten demanded, staring at her captor. She was feeling slightly lightheaded from the hit to the head she’d taken when she was kidnapped. She didn’t think it was anything too serious, but it still have her a fairly severe headache.

“You’re gonna tell me what I need to know, then I’ll get rid of you and hit the road.” Flint shrugged.

“And what is it that you need to know?” Kirsten quirked an eyebrow at him and he grinned a little, much to Kirsten’s disgust.

“Why the NSA is investigating me?” he tilted his head, squinting at her.

“Because the government doesn’t like serial killers.” Kirsten told him. Flint glared at her.

“You think you’re smart? The NSA has better things to do than—“

"Find people who are a threat to the security of the citizens of the US? Like people who kill other people?” Kirsten gave him an unimpressed look, which was apparently the wrong thing to do because he jumped up and grabbed her by the throat.

"STOP LYING TO ME! STOP GIVING ME BULLSHIT ANSWERS!” Flint screamed in her face. “I want to know why they’re really after me and where I can go to be safe!”

Even if she wanted to, Kirsten couldn’t respond because of Flint’s hold on her neck, which was cutting off her air supply. He kept yelling things at her as black spots appeared in her vision and she felt herself beginning to lose consciousness. Kirsten acknowledged the irony that She fought to stay awake, to take any sort of breath that she could, but it just wasn’t working.

Suddenly the pressure on her neck vanishes and her head falls forward as she gasps for air. Through her peripheral vision, she sees Fisher handcuffing Flint, who’s facedown on the floor.

“Kirsten!” Cameron practically slid into Kirsten’s line of vision. “Are you alright?” He immediately started trying to untie her hands.

“You were right,” She gasped. “This was a terrible idea.”

“I—what? I was right?” Cameron did a double take, before turning over his shoulder to yell: “Medic! I think she has a concussion!”

“I do not,” Kirsten huffed, massaging her now-free wrists.

“Well, you’re saying things you’d normally never say so you either have a concussion or you’re one of the pod-people.” Cameron helped her up as a paramedic ran up to check on them.

“I promised myself that if I made it out alive, I’d tell you that you were right about this mission being a bad idea,” Kirsten looked at him, ignoring the paramedic who was trying to dab at a cut on her forehead. “So that’s what I did.”

Cameron’s shoulders drooped as the tension drained out of them. “Then maybe you’ll listen to me the next time so something doesn’t happen again?”

Kirsten nodded, smiling a bit: "Yeah, maybe.”

“Good, because I was really worried about you, Stretch.” Cameron took a step towards her as the paramedic backed away. They locked eyes for a long moment. “And I told myself that if we saved you—,” Cameron cleared this throat, “that I’d tell you—“

Kirsten cut him off by closing the distance between the two of them, kissing him firmly on the mouth. His hands went immediately to her waist. One of hers went to hair, running her fingers through it, while the other cupped his face.

“Do you mind? We’re kind of in the middle of something here.” Fisher called, exasperated. They broke apart, giving sheepish (and half-hearted) apologies, not taking their eyes of each other.

“…I wanted to tell you that too.” Kirsten smiled at him.

“You took the words right out of my mouth.” Cameron grinned, leaning in for another kiss.


End file.
